


The Unfamiliar Familiar

by Nightwarbler



Series: The Spirit Morph Saga [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fictional book, Gen, Spirit Morph Saga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-05-09 17:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 20,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5549675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightwarbler/pseuds/Nightwarbler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part one of a speculative look at what the Spirit Morph books in Steven Universe might look like. Aimed at general readers to young adult, containing nothing especially gory. New chapters will be uploaded periodically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Morning Thief

Lisa awoke with a start, the echoes of her dreams still dancing in her mind, the low rumble of thunder murmured through the quiet house. The house was deathly still, the only sound Lisa could hear was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The hairs on her neck tingled when suddenly -

A crashing sound. Thunder, she thought. Noise and commotion in the sky, that’s all. Rain threw itself with abandon at the loft window, battering it with such intensity it seemed like it would break through and soak the mattress. Lisa wrapped herself in her sheets tightly, bracing herself for that impossibility. She counted from the flashes of lightning to see where the storm was. At first it was one, two, three, bang. One, two, two and a half, crash. Then it was one, two. Then it was just one. The final strike came in almost an instant, accompanied by the sound of falling beams and a scream. Lisa leapt up and looked out the window. In the yard below the dogs were barking, the cattle restless and the hens made enough noise to almost drown out the storms above and below. This felt like more than just an ordinary storm. It seemed to have dark intentions. The clouds sometimes curled and sometimes swarmed and sometimes clenched like a fist. Lisa took out a candle from her bedside table and a tinderbox. She was often chided, by her father and her mother when she was at home, for wasting candles. They’ll have to chide me then, Lisa thought. She couldn’t just go without checking the place was secure and the people in it safe.   
First to the kitchen. It was simple compared to some, but it was there Lisa spent her best hours. Her father would make the best breakfasts, with eggs fresh from the henhouse and bacon that was lean but with just enough fat to sizzle tauntingly in the pan, which always made her stomach rumble. It had become a reflex. Then there was the evening meal, which was invariably a stew or soup of some kind. Fortunately Lisa did not mind the lack of variety. It was something she could depend on, a ritual. The bell would sound, and her father’s voice would ring out too. She’d rush in from wherever she was working or studying and grab a bowl. This would be filled with whatever vegetables were in season and some chunks of tender meat covered in stock. Her father couldn’t manage to get many spices, but herbs he grew in abundance. Not a day would go by when the kitchen didn’t smell of something delicious. Except that day. Their dog Camomile was sleeping soundly, having been given some of her father’s famous thistle brew, which was enough to put to sleep ten strong men. She checked the kitchen door, which was bolted and secure.   
Then to the master bedroom. Under normal circumstances she wouldn’t go anywhere near it, or any of the drawers within. Her father valued his privacy highly, as much as his whole farm. The first and last time she came anywhere near them he turned pale and a cold fire burned in his eyes. Without a word he escorted her out. That was the frightening thing about her father. He was a man of good humour and was patient, but in anger he could turn the course of a river with just a stare. One day a merchant came to town, purporting to sell cure-alls and other such things. A lot of people were taken in but he saw his quick hands make a move for his herb garden. He stared him down until he left, standing firm and straight so his powerful frame became apparent. Many in his line of work were strong, but he had a strength beyond that of most farmers. Some whispered stories of why and how, but never for long. Her father would give them a look. Not the cold fire look, but a soft sad one, swimming with memories and regrets. Lisa cautiously, arms trembling with just the memory of her father’s eyes, pushed open the heavy door. She saw her father sleeping soundly and loudly, rolling over sometimes and starting when he put his hand down on the empty space beside him. Every time mother went away to sea he would have a few restless nights, or start going round the house asking if anyone had seen his Isabelle before he was reminded that she was fine and off fighting for her husband on distant shores. This settled him for a while, and if not then thistle brew would be made in a kettle as big as Lisa, slight for her age though she was it still made a substantial amount.  
Her father’s grunts and snores were a comfort, but still more noises came. Lisa stepped out of her father’s room delicately, closing the door behind her and cursing the loose floorboards. She took the stairs up to the attic for the last of her patrol. There was little there, save a few chests of memories and a poorly patched up hole through which a small trickle of water dripped into a cast iron milk pan. They led a simple life, farming for sustenance and trade. This meant few luxuries save whatever they could patch together or hand me downs from the kind-hearted. Most of the books they had were from passing travellers. Lisa raised her candle. A bird, a large and threatening looking bird of prey, was sitting on the handle of the cast iron milk pan and was drinking the rainwater that came down. She jumped a little. The bird looked at her a little askance, then returned to its drink, focusing on that and a headless mouse that looked freshly caught. As Lisa looked around the room for anything amiss the bird seemed to keep half an eye on her, as if guarding something, or someone. Nothing, Lisa thought. Nothing at all. She looked out of the attic window, climbing up onto some old chests, and got a view of the whole courtyard below. That was when she saw what was amiss.   
Shapes, dark shapes which barely came into focus, were moving towards the house. They came near the lanterns at the gate, and Lisa caught sight of the foremost. He was crooked, but not with age and carried a long staff with a sharp gem at its end. He struck it upon the ground and the sky spat fire, igniting the thatched roof of the hen house. Again and again he did this, and again and again lightning came down onto the village. The light of this was caught upon his face, and Lisa saw him fully for the first time. Pale skin, an aquiline nose, thin lips and a bright shine in his right eye. But it was not an eye at all – that was missing. In its place were a hundred tiny jewels studded into the socket in which danced the flames that were once a farm.  
Lisa heard something. A bang, and a sound like an axe hitting wood and the sound of the kitchen door creaking open and boots marching in… and up the stairs to the bedrooms. By the sounds of things they had begun ransacking the house, searching for something. Raiders, Lisa thought. They didn’t come often, but it was tough when they did. Few in the village were young or old enough to fight. Their best days were far ahead of them or far behind. There was a militia, loose and undisciplined, who were supposed to deal with this sort of thing but a lot of them were young men from villages too small to have proper names, just Mill-And-A-Temple or Well-And-River who upon getting their first wage spent it all in a big city like Saltcliffe. So the villages on the hills, so fruitful and industrious, would occasionally be reduced by bandits to mere shadows and had to rebuild while their protectors gambled away their defence fund on horses.  
Lisa felt like she should do something, but she was nailed to the spot. She tried to call out for help, but little more than a choked gasp came out. She looked around but the only thing there was the bird, mouse in mouth. The poor mouse had been recently slain, she could tell by the fresh blood dripping from its claws and beak which both shone brightly in the first glimmers of morning light. She could have sworn it was looking at her in some meaningful way, trying to tell her something… But she was distracted by sudden shouts from below.  
“Plinkman!” The stranger cried out. “Where is Plinkman?”  
“No sign of him” one of his underlings said.  
“Come out Plinkman, it’s time to settle your debts”  
“Maybe this is the wrong place”  
“No, he’s here. Did you hear, he settled down? Thought he could have himself a family. A wife… a daughter”  
“Who did he think he was fooling?”  
“Maybe figured it had been so long, we’d forgotten about him. Now where is he?”  
“Here! We’ve got him here!” one of his other underlings replied, bringing out of the gate a figure tied up in a burlap sack. Lisa could not see his face, but in the limp and distinctive broad back and shoulders she recognised the man they called Plinkman – her father. But that name was one he’d never been called by before, at least not in Lisa’s company. He was Isaac, just plain old Isaac.  
Lisa, whose paralysing fear was overcome by familial bonds, tore down the stairs. They were beginning to catch and she nearly slipped onto the flames which were licking at her ankles and giving extra flight to her, which she desperately needed. She slammed the door open and stormed into the courtyard. She was just in time to see her father being shoved onto the back of a cart and taken off towards a ship in the bare harbour with coal-black sides and dragon-red sails. As the ship took up anchor and set sail the threadbare little pier caught fire and then the harbour was no more.  
Lisa tried to run, to catch them, to make them all pay. She had the morning all planned out. Planting seeds, reading and a bowl of chicken soup with her father. They had taken it all from her, like thieves. She grabbed a tree branch and started swinging as hard as her slight form could manage, but all of a sudden she was treading air, having been lifted off the ground completely.   
“Let them go, child”  
It was Aemon, the blacksmith. He was holding her as if she weighed nothing, no matter how much she struggled and scratched and kicked. Aemon was steadfast and appeared not to even register any pain at all.  
“But- but they’ve got father!” Lisa yelled, eyes filling with tears.  
Lisa swung her branch so hard she almost had Aemon’s eye out. Still he did not flinch, just turned his head slightly to avoid the worst of it.   
“Aye, Plinkman’s gone. And you were going to get them with a switch then? Some lashings and an early night? Send them to their rooms, will you?”  
“I’ll-I’ll get them, I’ll-“  
“Calm down, child. Just calm down” Aemon was not generally considered to be the village babysitter, for good reason. Still, little seemed to bother him so he remained an effective punching bag until Lisa had managed to calm down a little. He wondered why anyone would bother starting a family, if this was the sort of thing they had to deal with. He had his anvil and his tools and pride in his work. It was known in a few towns, good dependable steel. Much like him.  
Eventually, the beating and protests stopped, the anger gave way to panic. Tears in their thousands came streaming down Lisa’s face. She dropped the switch, Aemon put her down and she fell to weeping.  
“I’ve got to- I’ll find him!”  
“No, child Lisa...” Aemon said.  
“You don’t understand, you’re so old your father’s probably dead of old age and rotten, what do you know about it? We’ve got to find him”  
“You misunderstand child, you’re not going to find him…”  
Lisa looked up at his pockmarked face which was twisted into a sad smile.  
“…We will”


	2. On Surer Footing

The dawn came, and with it no comfort. They had managed to deal with most of the fire, losing a little of the farm but keeping most of the houses. Lisa was commanded to go to bed by Aemon, but did no such thing. She remained vigilant and thought through all the possibilities. He’s dead, he’s not dead, he’s half dead he’s undead. The bird of prey, which she had come to see as an ill-omen, alighted by her window and oddly enough crowed. Odder still, it seemed to be doing an imitation, mocking the farm’s cocks.  
Lisa smelled smoke, and leapt up grabbing a candlestick for a weapon, gasping and breathing erratically.   
“Breakfast!” Aemon called from downstairs “sorry, I burnt the bacon a little”.  
It took her several minutes to collect herself enough to go downstairs, at which point the bacon was a cold blackened thing rather than a hot blackened thing. She eyed the stove suspiciously as its flames slowly died, not wanting to turn her back for a moment. Aemon had already finished his meal and was washing up his plate. He was wearing his blacksmith apron which was now covered in breadcrumbs and splashes of fat.  
Lisa prodded her food absent mindedly, wobbling the fried egg about with an especially brittle rasher of bacon. It snapped under the slightest pressure and landed in the yolk. She tried to rescue it but just drove it deeper into the amber mire along with her fingers.  
“You going to eat that?”  
“What was that, Mr Aemon?”  
“What? I didn’t say anything.”  
“But you said –“  
“I said are you going to eat that?”  
It wasn’t Aemon. Turning, though still keeping the fire in her peripheral vision, Lisa spotted the source of the voice. There, by an open window still letting out the smoke of Aemon’s culinary mess, was the bird of ill-omen, resting on the window’s long handle.  
Aemon turned.  
“You! No, out. Not yet, no. Off you go!”  
Aemon half ran towards the window with a pan covered in soap suds. The bird of ill-omen didn’t budge an inch, calling Aemon’s bluff.  
“Oh, come off it Aemon. The girl’s ready. Look at her.”  
Lisa, who had egg all over her fingers, looked very confused.  
“Ready for what?”  
“Archimicarus, no!”  
“You… know this bird?”  
Aemon sighed. “Yes”  
“The bird has a name?”  
“Yes”  
“And it’s Archimicarus”  
“There is NOTHING wrong with that name whatsoever. It is a very fine name for a bird. In fact, it’s a fine name for any creature.”  
If Lisa didn’t know any better, she would have said that the bird looked haughty. She had never met a talking bird before, so she thought she had better try to make a good first impression.  
“I’m very sorry, I’m Lisa. Pleased to meet you.”  
“Charmed I’m sure. I, as I’m sure you have already guessed, am Archimicarus, your familiar. I am a falcon of some regard”  
“I’m sorry, a what?”  
“Falcon. You know, a fearsome and lethal bird of prey.”  
“No, I’ve heard of falcons before, they’re big birds”  
“Your taxonomical expertise astounds me greatly”  
“I mean… what’s a familiar?”  
“So the concept… is unfamiliar to you?”  
Archimicarus laughed, which is an odd thing to see a falcon do. Or any bird, for that matter.  
“Archie, stop that. This is a serious time. Plinkman is MISSING” Aemon growled.  
The falcon flew at him, talons outstretched.  
“Don’t. You. Dare. Call. Me. Archie”  
Aemon fended him off with a scouring brush, flinging bits of dishwater everywhere, including Lisa’s plate. Even if she had an appetite, that would have ruined it.  
“Fine, fine, fine. Archimicarus. The girl isn’t ready. She needs proper training.”  
“I’m right here” Lisa said, in an assertive near-whisper. She was surprised she could speak at all, after last night.  
“Look, child Lisa, this might be quite hard to explain but… you’ve always shown promise. Everyone knew that, as soon as they’d look at you. When you came of age you were to uh… well…  
Archimicarus piped up “I would take you under my wing,” he tittered to himself “and you would be taught the fundamentals of your future trade”  
“But unfortunately” Aemon said “Your father’s kidnapping changes things a bit, so we’re going to have to hurry things along a bit more”  
“Sorry, but… what trade?”

“Magic” They both said, almost at once.   
Lisa’s head was swimming. She had heard tales, here and there. Tall ones, short ones, long ones, none could be verified independently. She was very much a fan of the tried and tested, and to her magic was neither.   
“It was the farm that’s did it, Aemon said “Too much time spent milking and sowing and reaping, not enough time to learn about the other side of things. Most people here seem like that, some people never even meet their familiars. Some might be halfway around the world. Lucky yours has wings, really”  
“Yes, so lucky” Archmicarus said, rolling his eyes.  
“So” Aemon continued “Here’s your familiar, from him you’ll learn all about the world of magic. Now I’ll travel with you for a while”  
“Yes, travel – are we going to find father?”  
“Not quite yet”  
“But… but they’ve got him!”  
“And you can’t get him back if you’re not prepared, can you? Unless I’ve missed something and you’re an ace with a sword already”  
“Well, no but… there’s you and and others in the village, and….”  
“And there’s hundreds of them on that ship, too. You can’t do this in a day, child Lisa. But we can help you. If you want to get Plinkman I mean… your father back, then I’ll have to go with you, at least for a while, so you can be on surer footing.”  
“Aemon’s right, girl.”  
“Don’t call me girl”  
“Fine”  
Lisa’s training started soon after what was optimistically labelled ‘breakfast’. They went out into the courtyard and Aemon brought out two swords from his workshop – one wooden, one steel. He handed Lisa the wooden one. They began to spar. Lisa got in a few parries before Aemon managed to slice off the tip of her sword.  
“How is this fair?”  
“It isn’t, fighting never is. The trick is to get me on the ground without me destroying your sword.”  
Lisa ducked to avoid Aemon’s sudden swings, losing a strand or two of hair in the process.  
“But… how?”  
“That’s not my job, that’s yours. Go on, child Lisa”  
Archimicarus flew down and tried to distract Aemon, who batted him away without wavering.  
“No, no familiars. Just you.”  
Another swing, and her sword went down an inch. Another thrust and it was hit and cracked slightly. A swing again, and the sword was down to dagger size.   
Aemon looked victorious, but unhappy with it.  
“Come on, you’ve got to be better than this”  
Lisa spotted Aemon’s shaky right leg, always off since dropping a shipment of steel on it a few years before Lisa was born. She threw the dagger just behind him, rolled to avoid the arc of his blade and joined it just as he had finished a big swing. She picked it up, aimed a swift kick at the back of his knee and as he dropped down with a gasp and a groan she had the wooden dagger at his throat.  
“Bravo! Er… wait. Brava! Yes! I’d applaud, but I don’t have hands”  
“That was a dirty trick, child Lisa.”  
Lisa’s face dropped.  
“You should be proud. That’s exactly what will keep you alive in battle.”  
“Yes Mr Aemon”  
“I think you should pick yourself up and pack up whatever you want to take with you. We’ll be gone a while, so decide carefully.”  
“Mr Aemon? Are we-”  
“The road is long, child Lisa, and we must walk it to its end.”


	3. The Long Road to the Sea, and What Lisa Found There

The straps on Lisa’s backpack were starting to cut into her shoulders and when she took them into her hands they cut those too. Archimicarus, spotting her troubles, landed on her bag and took it into his talons, lifting it a little and providing much needed relief.  
They had reached the point where their little village, the farm and all that Lisa had ever known was on the horizon behind them and about to disappear into the beyond. Lisa counted the steps just as she had counted the thunder her last night there. Three… two… one… and with no fuss whatsoever that hill with all its memories just blinked out of sight.  
A short while after, Aemon lifted up a hand and dropped his burdens.  
“We must stop here”  
“But why, there’s such a long way to go”  
“For your first lesson”  
“We’ve already had it”  
“No, with me” Archimicarus cawed.  
Lisa sat down by an autumn tree, whose bonfire leaves clashed against the green of the valley. Archimicarus flew off for a moment. Lisa moved to follow him, but Aemon raised a hand.  
A few minutes later, Archimicarus returned carrying something. He landed, and the something became apparent. It was an assortment of things – crystals, herbs, mushrooms, and a small rodent.  
“You will identify and sort between these things. Magical and non-magical. Helpful and harmful, between these”  
“What about the mouse?”  
“Oh, that’s for me”  
Archimicarus tossed it up in the air then caught it in his mouth. Lisa winced.  
“Well I’d say um… how on earth am I supposed to know?”  
“Your instincts, girl, god.”  
“That… my instincts?”  
“You have magical potential, that means you should be able to sense when something magic is near.”  
“Ummm… that one”  
Lisa pointed to a mushroom.  
“That’s a chestnut mushroom. You’re not… instincting, you’re just guessing?”  
“Instincting?”  
“Oh stop it, my first language is falcon”  
“But how am I supposed to-“ Lisa sighed.  
Archimicarus picked up a length of cloth and artlessly tossed it onto her head, obscuring her vision.  
“Now, put out your hands and just feel.”  
Lisa sighed again and put out her hands, expecting nothing. But what was this? A slight change in the air, a sense of something that shouldn’t be there. She put her hands down on a shard of crystal, cutting her hand a little.  
“Yes!” Archmicarus cried. “The bloodsbane, very dangerous, that one. Now, try to find the one that helps”  
Lisa put out her hand again, feeling the wrongness of the bloodsbane. Her blood felt drawn to it, like it was feeding it, making it more powerful. Her fate was tied to it, she could not part. She would give everything to it, whatever it wanted.  
“Lisa! Focus!”  
The voice pulled her out a little, she could feel the cloth again and the wind and the smell of the autumn tree. Eventually she pushed past the pull of the bloodsbane, looking for something else with no idea of what to look for. Luckily, she found it. A sense of harmony, like the end of a song when it resolves itself, the close of a book, the cycle of the seasons. She put her hand down and felt some prickly little plants. Her bleeding stopped and a sense of calm washed over her, almost enough to pull her into a deep, deep sleep.  
“There!” Archimicarus cawed “You found the thistle!”  
Lisa took her blindfold off and there in her hand was a thistle just like her father had used to make his famous brews. So all that time it was magic? No wonder he slept so soundly even through the fiercest storm. No wonder he hadn’t put up more of a fight when the one-eyed man came with his lightning staff and hundred men and black-sided red-sailed ship. No wonder… that before she knew it she was being dragged downwards into a heavy slumber from which she might never return.


	4. Thistle Dreams

Lisa awoke with a start, the echoes of her dreams still dancing in her mind, the low rumble of thunder murmured through the quiet house. The house was deathly still, the only sound Lisa could hear was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. The hairs on her neck tingled when suddenly –  
Wait! This wasn’t right. She went upstairs and somehow ended up in the kitchen. Camomile was barking at the storm, pacing back and forth with eyes that were white with fear.  
“Camomile!”  
Camomile cowered under her legs.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t take you with me, girl. I’m so sorry. I forgot.”  
Camomile whined and whined at her. Then all of a sudden they were in the master bedroom. Something was different, there was something….  
Her father was still there.  
But he was not alone.  
“Plinkman! Come on, get up Plinkman”  
Her father rose, reluctantly.  
“It’s time Plinkman.”  
“No, I’ve served. I’ve had my burdens. My wife is away, who would look after Lisa? And the farm?”  
“It’s nothing to us, you’ll give what you owe”  
“I owe nothing”  
“Liar!”  
The other voice smashed a lantern. It was the one eyed man, but in place of the jewels was a nest of maggots. His staff was a twisted mass of snakes.  
Lisa tried to put herself between them, but passed right through everything. She was helpless, yet again.  
The world span, and all of a sudden her father was wrapped in a sack and being dragged away. Again. She tried to follow, got onto the cart and then they were all at sea. Her mother was there, and Lisa couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying. What was going on? She looked around for Camomile, but then a wave of oblivion passed over her.  
She was leading an army, vast as the skies, on the back of a great winged beast. Her vision was a little lacking, but she had a sword in her hand and was battle hardened. With a swoop, they descended towards an armada of a size never before realised until now. An impossibility of ships, all with coal-black sides and dragon-red sails.  
She was struck by cannonfire and her mount dropped out of the sky and there were no birds, just her and others her age falling out of the sky… but still, somehow there were feathers falling.  
Then came the sea, with its waves of fury and crashing darkness. And then a smell like roaring fires and burnt bacon…  
“Child Lisa! Child Lisa! Open your hands!”  
“Wh-“  
“It’s too late for the girl, Aemon”  
“I should pluck the beak from your head, bird. Child Lisa! Let go of the thistle!”  
Lisa looked down as she drowned in the deeps. A great sea serpent was approaching, its hungry maw showing teeth like ten thousand treasures. She greeted it gladly, she did not know why. Ten thousand treasures. In the serpent’s mouth. The serpent…   
Little by little she realised the peril she was in, yet did nothing. She tried, very much so. She tried but her limbs were not listening, save for her hands which responded slowly. Go on, she thought. Open. Open your hands. Ten thousand treasures in the serpent’s mouth. You could be ten thousand and one. Open your hands. Let go of the thistle. Her body refused. Then she had an idea.  
Touch the serpent, greet it gladly. Go on, say hello to it. Say you’ll join its treasures. No, the other hand. Open it and give it a wave.  
This time her body complied, dropping the thistle into the depths of the sea, dropping it onto the grass by the autumn tree… the sea… the autumn tree… She awoke with a start.  
“Good god, Child Lisa! You gave us a scare”  
“What… what was that?”  
“You held the thistle for too long. I was about to warn you”  
Aemon glared at Archimicarus.  
“No really I was. What heals can also harm. Especially if you are finely tuned to the magic of the world. To most it’s just a common remedy, but in the hands of the magic it is more potent… and more dangerous.”  
“What did I see?”  
“You were just dreaming, Child…”  
“But it felt… it felt real”  
“Aemon, shush now. This is my territory. Some of what you saw may have been true, some not. Some things were put there to deceive, some things to show…”  
“But how…”  
“Thistles have a pact with some odd folk, you might see them one day”  
“A pact?”  
“Well, yes. In the language of the trees, before they took them down to make houses some folk could speak to them and ask favours or just while the hours away.”   
“And the pact…”  
“The folk of the forest would keep the trees and plants safe and they would be fed and given favours. But some people, long ago, broke this pact… and took an axe to an old, old oak tree in the heart of the forest.”  
“Really?”  
“Well, no-one knows for sure. But I know humans, so I say it’s true. Messy lot. Terrible”  
Lisa wondered what these odd folk were like, and if she truly would meet them one day. She hadn’t heard of them before, though she was well-read for someone of her age. The people of the village had a little library they put together, buying up books from traveling merchants or digging through their junk piles for anything of even passing interest. Lisa spent as long as she could there, reading all the stories she could and pored over the maps both scientific and speculative. So these odd folk, and the old oak tree and the heart of the forest must not exist, she thought. Archimicarus must be pulling her leg. She wasn’t quite sure if she trusted or even liked her familiar. They had only just met, after all.  
Aemon began picking up the mushrooms and throwing them in a pan. Lisa had a dreadful premonition of what he was going to say.  
“All right grab your bowls, I’m cooking dinner”


	5. The Night Beneath The Autumn Tree

The evening’s meal was not as much of a disaster as Aemon’s last attempt at cooking. It was a simple mushroom soup, and not even the monomath blacksmith could mess that one up. The leftovers he put in a small flask. Archimicarus was circling overhead, as he was taking the first watch of the night. Then it would be Lisa, then Aemon. Lisa had been given a dagger, a plain looking thing but deadly sharp. Sometimes she would swing it and cut the air a little, or challenge to a duel the endlessly falling leaves from the autumn tree until Aemon stirred from his sleep and groaned at her to stop.  
The air was a mix of the tree’s crisp leaves and the hushed excitement of the summer evening. Here and there little insects chirped, and here and there on the hills in the distance people had bonfires and feasts and the smell of roasting pig came tumbling down after them, calling to them. But that was the life they left behind. There would be no more parties or feasts, just guarding in shifts and sleeping rolls under the branches and the open skies on the road to the sea and their quarry, the one eyed man.  
Archmicarus swooped down and nudged Lisa, getting her attention before snuggling up and going to sleep. It was all on her, to keep watch and to do her duty. With the sleep of the thistle and all that had happened she felt she could stay awake for days.   
Lisa glanced to her side. Her familiar was sound asleep, and nothing could stir him now.  
Suddenly she heard voices, hushed and conspiratorial, coming down the road. Two figures, didn’t seem like anyone else was there.  
“So that wasn’t much of a farm, eh?” Hushed said.  
“Hah, that’s what happens when you don’t pay your dues.” Conspiratorial replied.  
“You know, I almost went in for that sort of work once”  
“Haha, aye?”  
“Oh, aye. But couldn’t stand the early rising.”  
They laughed. Lisa stood ready to alert the others.  
“Damn.”  
“What is it?”  
“That dog, gave me a right big bite on me hand”  
“What a mutt. Still, shouldn’t have tried to kick it”  
“Coming from you? I’ve seen you slice fifteen throats before any had a chance to wake up!”  
“Aye, but still. I’d never kick a dog, me.”  
“Had it coming”  
This was too much. Lisa ran out from under the tree, brandishing her dagger. For a moment the two of them were taken aback by the glint of steel in the moonlight, but then from the shadows a third came, knocking the dagger out of her hand and throwing her back under the tree.  
“Good one.”  
The third man turned and Lisa caught sight of him. He wore thin black cloth over his slight but muscular frame. His face and body were scarred, with a broken nose and a collarbone that was definitely not where it should be. He looked so terrifying, much more so than the others who seemed by comparison like common apple thieves. For a moment, Lisa stared at him. Could it be… but no. Two eyes. And they were no jewels. They were black and bloodshot and what was not bloodshot was marble white.  
“Alright, let’s be having it then.” Hushed said.  
Silent nodded, hitting the stirring Aemon with a cudgel and nabbing his supplies.  
Before Lisa could wake up Archimicarus or run after them they were well on their way down the road. They were now without supplies, without help, without hope. From the end of her watch until the break of dawn over the valley Lisa lay down and wept.  
Aemon awoke in a haze. What happened last night? He had seldom felt so awful of a morning.  
“Lisa? Archimicarus?”  
“Present” said the falcon.  
No answer came from Lisa.  
“Lisa? Lisa?”  
Aemon found Lisa bruised and weeping on the ground.  
“What is it, child Lisa?”  
“The… the… mush-the mush-“  
“Come on, out with it?”  
“THEY’VE TAKEN THE MUSHROOM SOUP” she bawled.  
“Oh god, the supplies” Archimicarus cried.  
“It’s alright, it’s alright. Which way did they go?”  
Lisa pointed.  
“Then you’ll take your familiar and get our things back” Aemon said, sternly.  
Lisa was startled for a moment.  
“So what… what will I do?”  
“That’s for you to sort out, child-“  
“DON’T- JUST DON’T CALL ME CHILD. You gave me a weapon, you showed me how to fight and now I’m to be stealing from cut-throats and thieves.”  
“Come back in one piece, and I shall call you Lisa.”  
A few moments later Lisa was ready and walking along the road, on the trail of the men. Archimicarus was scanning the skies and route ahead.  
The road was getting rougher underfoot, the path having split.  
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Lisa called out to Archimicarus.  
“I’m quite sure, girl”  
“How did you become a familiar, anyway?”  
“Well, how’d you become a person?”  
“I don’t know, I just happened”  
“Well then, there it is. I was minding my own business, some years ago, when suddenly I was shot into being. I just happened”  
“Really?”  
“Well, not really. I was flying around, as you do… and all of a sudden this spirit, this voice started saying all this stuff, and I understood it. Actual human language. You there, you are Archimicarus, blah, blah, blah, booming voice, you must assist Lisa in all she wishes to do and discover, blah, blah, blah, gravitas. And that was that”  
“So they gave you a name then? Archimicarus?”  
“Yep, just had my bird name before that happened”  
“So what was that?”  
Archimicarus let out an impressive screech.  
“And what does that mean then?”  
“Roughly? He-Who-Knows-Where-The-Good-Worms-Are-Hidden”  
Lisa giggled, actually giggled, for the first time since she left home. For the first time since long before her father disappeared. Even before that night he was growing grim, kept one eye to the door or the window, and even when mother was home (which wasn’t often) he had plenty of restless nights.  
The laughter made Lisa forget the ache of her feet, the straps on her shoulders, the sorrows that crept from the darkest parts of her imagination to torment her in waking life just as in dreams.  
After what felt like an age, Lisa happened upon a column of smoke behind a tall rock. She crept up to it and peeked round.   
There was a fire, built high with a proper cauldron above it. Standing around it were the three cut-throats, eagerly awaiting their meal. In the cauldron, bubbling fiercely and unjustly away as if objecting to its own abduction, was Mr Aemon’s very own mushroom soup.


	6. In The Shadow of Mushroom Soup

“Did I ever tell you about the time I visited the Wizard Wilds?” Conspiratorial crowed.  
“You never did.”  
“And how do you know that?”  
“Because they can tell – you know. There’s that wall. What’s it called? You can’t get past that”  
“Who says?”  
“Everyone”  
“Pah, I was there and I can prove it”  
“Even wizards who go don’t come back half the time. You telling me you’ve done better than a wizard?”  
“They’re not much, you know. Despite what they say”  
“Come off it, man. You can’t even get in in the first place.”  
“Well… I had a guide”  
“Aye, like that time you were scaling the iciest peaks in the bleakest tundra, and met a shaman who told you that you were to become the toughest blade in these lands? Eh?”  
Conspiratorial pulled out something Lisa couldn’t quite see.  
“God’s Delicates. What’s a nothing like you doing with that kind of firepower?”  
“Well, you see, as I was saying about the Wilds…”  
“Hang on a minute. Nope, it’s fake”  
“Nah, no way. 100% Authentic”  
“If it was, we’d all be dead. That’s a cannon charm, that is”  
Conspiratorial sighed. “Ok, I got it off this bloke, thought it looked good for a laugh, happy?”  
“Exceedingly”  
“Quite a haul, eh?” Conspiratorial said, desperate to change the subject. He was polishing his blade which was surprisingly pristine given his stories of glory.  
“Better than nothing” Replied Hushed, pushing the dirt and rocks around with a twig.  
“I’ve had a mind to cook something like this”  
“Oh were you?”  
“Yeah honest. I’m actually – I’ll have you know I’m actually a pretty decent cook.”  
“When you’re not the ‘toughest blade in these lands’, eh?”  
“That’s right.”  
A sigh emerged from the corner. It was Silent, lurking in the shadows. Lisa’s eyes narrowed. He was the worst of the three. A half-wit, a braggart and a real cutthroat.  
Silent was polishing his blade, and Lisa saw there was blood gleaming on it. This would not be easy. Lisa sidled around the side of the rock, scuffing her hands against it and cursing slightly.  
“What was that?”  
“Check it out, won’t you? I would but er... just check it out.”  
Silent skulked forwards, towards her. It seemed now not a day would go by without being petrified.   
This is it, Lisa thought. Of all of them it had to be the actually competent one, the one with dead eyes that seemed to pierce the night itself, so that it would withdraw and let sight be unhindered. At least she might join her father, Lisa thought before scolding herself. How could she? He was definitely very much alive the last time she saw him, and she had no reason to think he wouldn’t be still. Lisa had heard of this before. A wandering veteran seeking alms came to the farm the previous year and in exchange for bread told her of the songs of death. Death he said, waving his stick, would come to you not as a cloaked rattle-bones with a blade. No, he said, that would put some fight in you. Death he said, when close, would whisper into your ear. Your ancestors are waiting. Your children, lost to the blue ache, will greet you on the other side. Peace will come. He had known many men and women, strong to the last, who dropped their weapons in battle because they had heard the songs of death. Just as Lisa was hearing them now.  
All of a sudden, an unearthly howl echoed out across the valley.  
“YOU!”  
“Who… what on earth is that?” Hushed was agape.   
“Just one of the Odd Folk, I’ll bet. Or some kids causing trouble. I remember, back in –“  
“YOU DISTURB THESE PLAINS. MY HOME. MY TOMB. MAY YOUR BONES CRACK AND FLESH BE SWARMED BY CARRION BEASTS. MAY YOUR EYES BE PLUCKED OUT AND YOUR MOTHERS GIVEN MINUTED NOTES OF YOUR COWARDLY SCREAMS IN YOUR FINAL MOMENTS OF CURSED LIFE”  
Hushed and Conspiratorial ran for the hills. Silent sighed, sheathed his blade and followed them.  
“I’m… I’m very sorry sir, whoever you are. I will leave your lands and never return. I only came because these thieves stole our food, and…”  
“Lisa, lisa, calm yourself down, you daft thing”  
“Archimicarus! It was you!”  
“Of course it was, who did you think?”  
“I don’t know, some banshee from the first wars.”  
“Well if you’ll believe that…”  
“I… thought I was done for”  
“I know, I could feel it.”  
“You could?”  
“Aye”  
“How?”  
“Well some might say it was because I am first and foremost a bird of prey. Some might say it is because as your familiar my fate is eternally intertwined with yours. In truth, it is both.”  
Lisa sat down on a log previously occupied by Conspiratorial. She spotted a figure advancing and drew her blade.  
“Relax, Lisa”  
Aemon. Lisa sheathed her dagger and returned to sitting.  
“Well then, looks like I had best serve dinner”  
They ate the spoils of a rather just war, and one with no blood spilled at that.  
Archimicarus told the story of what happened, taking turns with Lisa, elaborating with bigger and more dramatic flourishes each time. The sweat on her brow, the tales the bandits told… and the song of death.  
“That’s a far, far too harsh thing for a child to hear”  
“Some hear it younger” Lisa said, thinking of how many children she used to play with before an especially bad harvest when she was barely big enough to walk.  
“True enough. But still, I was well into my second tour when I first heard it. Was about ready to settle down and find me a wife”  
“And what happened?”  
“I found me a smithy instead.” Aemon chuckled.  
“No I mean…”  
“Another time”  
“What are we going to do? And please don’t say sit here and eat mushroom soup.”  
“Sit here and- no, no… well, you’ve done well in your training so far but there’s not much more you can be taught for now. I suppose we’ll have to travel a little longer, there’s a harbour a few days from here. We can ask around, maybe see if anyone has spotted this ship Pl- your father is on.”  
“Why were they calling him Plinkman?”  
“I… don’t know. Best get some rest, Lisa. We’ve a long way to travel”  
“You did it too. I’ve never heard anyone call him that before.”  
Aemon, who was always quite spritely and active and prided himself on that, looked his age.  
“Go to bed, Lisa”


	7. A Safe Harbour

The journey to the sea was from then on uneventful. They walked, they slept, Aemon and Archmicarus took turns revealing to Lisa some of the lore and ways of the wizard – though their knowledge was limited by not actually being wizards either. It mostly came down to a little bit of folk magic, old spells and remedies passed down in the village.  
“Bloodsbane?”  
“A crystal that feeds off the blood and the will of those nearby.”  
“Excellent! Thistles?”  
“Can bring a calm sleep, but are dangerous to those sensitive to magic”  
“The red-footed oxen?”  
“Not magic, just a little odd”  
“Correct. Three out of three. Not bad.”  
“Not bad? I got them all right”  
“Yes, well you could’ve gone more in depth there girl. For instance, some folk consider the red foot of the ox to bring luck and erm… marital prowess”  
“does it though?”  
“No, but you can make a decent profit if you-“  
“Archimicarus! No teaching our Lisa to become a common marketplace cheat”  
“I was merely imparting valuable information about the folk beliefs of this land.”  
“To gouge a profit from those folk”  
“No-one said anything about gouging! I merely suggest we keep it in mind should we come across any red feet…”  
“I don’t think I’ll be needing to scam anyone, I’m here to find my father. Nothing else matters”  
“Not even your training?” Aemon asked.  
“Not even that. I’ll learn, as it prepares me for what’s ahead. But I’m no witch. This is not my path”  
“Then what is?”  
“I don’t know yet. To have a home that is not empty. To mend the roofs and tend to my father’s wounds, to make things as they were.”  
“Well put, Lisa, well put” Aemon sighed. “But still, I hope you will not squander your gifts.”  
“There! I see it.”  
“We are close then, Archimicarus?”  
“Aye, there are gulls, they have told me so. Plus I see ships, a harbour, a town”  
“I can’t see anything.”  
“Then I pity your puny, blind flightless body”  
“Your tact is, as always, much appreciated bird”  
“You know, humans always reminded me of chickens… strutting around and being all fancy but always dreaming of flying”  
“How do you know chickens dream of flying?”  
“Oh, they talk in their sleep. Bit sad really”  
And so, much like a chicken Lisa and Aemon walked their way to the town as Archimicarus soared on ahead. Compared to the village it was a metropolis. Aemon was not as impressed as Lisa. He had passed through many times, often trading weapons forged in his workshop or claimed on the battlefield.  
The town was a slanted place, built on cliffs that were slowly yielding to the churning seas with whatever wood was at hand. No building was uniform in colour or style. There was equal chance of finding a bit of old shipwreck or mahogany cabinet masquerading as a house. Half the houses were covered in barnacles, and the other half had little bits of dried seaweed stuck on. The lanterns seemed odd – definitely different from home. They were calm little orbs of light encased in glass, and Lisa couldn’t see the source.  
“Aemon… what’s in those lanterns?”  
“Light charms. Once, they had open flames but one stray spark and half the town was ash. Now the wizards are running the lights. They get paid from the town’s coffers to come in and replenish them when they run dry.”  
“Nice way to make a living” Archimicarus said.  
“Well, these are clever folk. They found a good way to keep the town safe. What’s wrong with that?”  
“Nothing, I’m just saying…”  
“They’re good folk. Helpful. And that’s that. Now come on”  
Soon they came to an inn. It was quiet, as the sun was at its height. One or two drunkards occupied each corner, not acknowledging each other or anything except for their drinks.  
“Two ales, one watered down, and erm… some bird seed”  
Archimicarus frowned. “Bat’s blood, I’m no house pet. I am a falcon.”  
“A familiar, eh?”  
“I hope that’s not a problem.” Aemon said.  
“Not at all, not at all. I have mine right here” the barman gestured. They couldn’t see what he was pointing at at first, but then they spotted an eel swimming in a jar of salt water.  
“So what can I get you then, falcon?”  
“Well… do you have any rats?”  
“No” the barman said. Then “yes” he whispered.  
Archmicarus nodded and flew off to the dark corners of the room with glee.  
“Sir” Lisa said “What town is this?”  
Aemon turned to her “It’s Saltcliff, is it not? Could’ve asked me that, Lisa. I pass through this way all the time”  
The barman laughed. “Oh, no, that was under the last lot. How many years since you’ve been here, old man? This is the city of Drake.”


	8. The Town of Saltcliff and the City of Drake

“The last lot?”  
“Ah, well. They don’t like you talking about that here. Not really. Shouldn’t have even… look, whatever you do don’t say Saltcliff out there, right?”  
“Why shouldn’t we say Salt-“  
The barman, quick as a flash, had his hand over Aemon’s mouth.  
“This lot don’t want anyone to remember the old town. They came, tore down the old square with all its old houses and put a new hall in. Now they’re asking everyone to call this the Glorious City State of Drake.”  
“City state? I’ll be an ox. It’s barely even managed to be a town.”  
“Not what they think, I mean when they came-“  
The door slammed open. Four men came in, with waxed moustaches and blue-green uniforms that gave them an unearthly pallor.  
“Beer inspection!” The one with a strange mole said, and the others guffawed. “No, really. The usual.”  
The barman poured four mugs of ale, his face contorted into a gargoyle’s grimace. The soldiers quick-marched to a couple of seats and proceeded to drink them as quick as possible.  
“Snacks! We are the brave defenders of Drake and we demand victuals!”  
The barman dealt out some servings of nuts.  
“Pah, more nuts! Nuts for heroes!”  
“Nuts for heroes!”  
“Yeah, nuts for heroes!”  
They continued to chant and howl until the barman gave in.  
Archimicarus returned, jaws bloody.  
“What a bunch of colossal bores”  
“Who said that?” the one with the worst moustache yelled.  
Aemon furiously tried to hide Archimicarus under his coat. Archimicarus did not take kindly to this. He did not in fact take to it at all, and was shoving and scratching the whole time.  
“Was it you, old man?”  
“No, no, not me, no-OH, YOU BASTARD OF A BASTARD”  
“What did you call me? No way to talk to one of the Heroes of Drake!”  
“Heroes of… why do they keep saying that?”  
“For recruitment”, the barman hurriedly whispered “It’s their actual job title.”  
“So, old man. You fancy yourself as brave as us, eh?”  
The men were closing in. Lisa clutched her dagger, eyeing their sidearms with despair. They were Outnumbered, outgunned, but not out taloned.   
Archimicarus swooped in and went for the tallest one. He grabbed him and threw him across the room. This startled the falcon and was further compounded by the four of them drawing their pistols and aiming at the strangers.   
“What’s your business here in the city?”  
“Our business is our business. Pray tell, why would it be yours?”  
“We are the law here in Drake. The law wants to know” the best moustache said.  
“We are simple travellers, looking for work and food”  
“Beggars, eh?”  
“No I said we’d work for it”  
“No, no, no”, said the best moustache “you said looking for work…AND food. No connection there.”  
“It was implied!”  
“Yeah it was implied” said the tall one.  
“Whose side are you on?”  
“I…um… let’s get the bastard”  
So, spurred on by his own falling reputation the tall one grabbed Aemon and knocked him clean out with the butt of his gun. Lisa charged at him, and she too was on the receiving end of the treatment.  
They were dragged out and away. All that was left was the barman, a few drunks and a dazed and lost Archimicarus.


	9. The Dungeons of Drake

Lisa awoke in a cramped and dank little cell. There was a solitary beam of light coming down from a pitiful little window. A lump had formed on her head, and her left eye was partly obscured. It was the worst headache she had felt in a long time.  
“Hello?” she called out. “Aemon?”  
“Shut up in there!” a harsh voice replied.  
A knocking came from the far wall of the cell. Lisa sidled over. She knocked back.  
Then came a little sequence, with gaps in between each knock – some short, some long. Morse! Her mother had taught her some when she came back from her first voyage aboard the SS Beluga. It was a small fishing vessel that as a matter of fact mostly came back with cod and haddock, which they sold at prices that were bordering on a loss. If only she was there. If only she had been at home and not at sea on the night her father was taken. She would have known what to do. More knocking.  
Are. You. A. Prisoner. Like. Me?  
Lisa replied. Yes. Who. Are. You?  
I.Am. Elia. A Sailor  
I.Am.Lisa. I. Am. Looking. For. My. Father.  
What. Is. His Name?  
Tomas.  
I.Do. Not. Know. A. Tomas. Sorry.  
How. Do. We. Get. Out?  
I.Have. A Plan. But. I. Need. Your. Help.  
What. Is. It?  
Tomorrow. I. Must. Prepare. You. Will. See.  
Lisa heard nothing from the wall for the rest of the day. A guard came and gave out a bread roll which was stale and water which wasn’t much better. Lisa ate and drank and asked when she would be released to no avail. She curled up on straw and wept, soothing herself to sleep by imagining her mother arriving in a galleon to save the day, or returning gloriously home with her father.  
The morning came with no grand overtures but Lisa could sense something in the air. A stirring, a buzz. Voices echoed down the corridors outside the cells and there was altogether a sense of uncertainty. Lisa tried Elia’s wall but received no response. Did they get caught? Was the plan off? Lisa had gotten her hopes up for nothing, but then a thudding sound came from Elia’s cell.  
“What was that?”  
“God, get the door open.”  
“Why don’t you?”  
“They’re assembling. It’s my last chance to get picked for it. I’m not going to piss about with grunt work. That’s your job.”  
“Aye, aye, sir…”  
“When I come back, I could well be your captain.”  
“…if”  
“What was that?”  
“Nothing, good luck.”  
Footsteps away, then a key in a lock. Lisa strained to hear more but then there was just a grunting sound followed by another thud and the door being slammed shut and locked. What on earth was happening?  
All of a sudden a figure appeared at the door, wreathed in shadows. The light in there was appalling, though Lisa supposed that was the general idea. They opened the door and stepped forward into the light so Lisa could see them fully. They were tall and well built, with a wry smile on their lips and darting cautious eyes. They were dark, like Lisa and her family but a shade more. Their hair was a beautiful set of tight curls.  
“I am Elia. You are smaller than I had anticipated”  
“Hello…. Is that a problem?”  
“No, not at all. Let’s go”  
“But wait – you haven’t told me your plan.”  
“This,” Elia said, tapping their clothes “is the plan”  
Lisa realised it was the uniform of the guard. Wait, had she been tricked? Elia grabbed her and started to frogmarch her out. They went up, along, down, up again and across all the while with protestations from Lisa. They passed a checkpoint.  
“Taking this prisoner for transfer. Going to the farm.”  
The checkpoint guards shuddered and let them pass. When they were round the corner Elia tore off their uniform to reveal black robes studded with even blacker jewels each with a single shining light, much like a star, in the middle.  
“What… you were… I thought you tricked me.”  
“Yes, didn’t I just”  
“Why didn’t you tell me?”  
“Well I don’t know you, do I? I have no idea how good a liar you are.”  
“What are they?” Lisa asked, pointing to the jewels on Elia’s robes.  
“Shadows” Elia replied.  
“Shadows, what on earth?”  
“A little trick of the trade. You throw ‘em whenever you want to be gone, good as night to hide in. Rare as diamonds too. Some would kill to have these”  
“I wouldn’t have them then!” Lisa exclaimed  
“It’s either that or have them all”  
“I still have to find the others. Archimicarus, Aemon…”  
“Oh no.”  
“What is it?”  
“I heard some of the guards talking when I was preparing for my escape. He’s been transferred. They’re taking him to the farm”


	10. The Prisoner

Archimicarus awoke in the arms of a very hairy and very large barman, whose own familiar was staring out of its glass home with concern.  
“Well then, looks like he’s not dead.”  
“Sorry to disappoint, alive and well. Now… where is my charge?”  
“Ah, well this may cause some problems.”  
“Aye?”  
“She’s been arrested.”  
“Ah, yes this may well cause problems. Still, nothing I can’t fix”  
“You’re optimistic.”  
“Well, I had better be. I’m sure you know what happens to me if anything happens to her.”  
“I do.”  
“Then help me find her.”  
The prisoners sweltered in the iron box as it rolled and trundled down an uneven road. Aemon had heard of this before – the iron death. It was to keep the prisoners as hot and uncomfortable as possible to stop them from rising up. A single airhole was at the top, and most of the inhabitants of the box clambered over each other to get one hint of fresh air, to escape the reek. Their climbing only served to wobble the box more, almost to the point of making the whole cart crash.  
In the chaos, one man looked down in silence, wondering just how he had gotten there. He was older than the others, but with strength still left in him. There was little light, but a glimmer of red worked its way down his face. Aemon was bleeding.   
“You don’t look good, old man.” Said a man with scars along the length of his arms and chest.  
Aemon looked up. Old? He supposed he was. His hands weren’t as strong as they used to be, his vision not as keen. And yet he had gotten himself into this mess, off on an adventure with a young girl. Folly. Pure folly. The scarred man drew a small dagger from his belt, in a little pouch for concealing such things from prying eyes.   
“Suppose no-one would miss you if you were gone, eh?” he said, and readied his blade.   
Just as the man was ready to strike, Aemon aimed a kick right at the man’s neck, pinning him to a wall of bodies. Another kick, and he was spitting blood. Another after that and the crack of vertebrae echoed in the box, followed by silence. The others stared at this wizened man who could break a neck without blinking.  
Aemon stood up as tall as the height of the box and the length of the chains allowed him. He barged against the side of the box, to no avail. Then again, to no avail. Then the others started joining him. He gave a signal and some would run to the left, and again and the others would run to the right. Left, and right and left again until they started rocking. Just as they were about to tip over and crack open the doors, the cart stopped suddenly. Muffled voices were heard just outside.  
“Check on them won’t you? The animals are kicking up a fuss again.”  
“Let them.”  
“We don’t get paid if they’re all dead.”  
The doors opened and a rush of air came in, a beautiful wave of grass and gentle breeze. This seemed to quell for a moment the revolutionary spirit. They were silent, save one.  
“Excuse me, sir. I don’t think this man is very well.”  
A guard stepped in and walked cautiously up to the scarred man. He prodded him, and poked him and suddenly the scarred man’s chains were being wrapped around his neck. These were followed by more and more chains until the guard was hogtied. The more the man struggled the more Aemon pulled. The guard felt an icy cold and a darkening upon him and called for help in a tortured whisper.   
“Let him go, or you’ll all be for the gallows.”  
“We all leave, or none of us do.”  
“You don’t want to leave this world a murderer old man.”  
“You are too late for that, I’m afraid. We all leave, or none of us do.”  
The free guard stepped forward, with one hand on his keys and the other at his sword.  
Archimicarus swept over the city, searching for anything that looked like a cell. To him, everywhere did. No twigs or feathers, nothing of warmth. There was nothing his eye caught, but he felt something on the air. There was a stench of death, of decay. He followed it and came to a barred window with a small figure inside.   
“Lisa?”  
The figure turned.  
“No.”  
“Have you seen her?”  
“Can you help me?”  
“You’re not Lisa. So no.”  
“Please?”  
The hawk stood surveying the scene for a moment, perfectly confident he would turn and fly away without a care. He sighed, his illusions of independence shattered by an irritatingly burgeoning conscience.  
“How can I help?”  
The figure stepped into the light. She was a child, about half the age of Lisa if that. She was skeletal and grey. It was as if, Archimicarus thought, she was trying to cheat death by already looking like the dead.  
“I can’t find my family. I’m scared”  
Archimicarus squeezed through the bars.  
“Stay out of sight, and follow my lead.”


	11. The Farm

“What’s that?”  
“It’s for the people Drake wants you to forget. There is one cart going there a day, none coming back.”  
“And Aemon is there.”  
“Well, there’s hope.”  
“There is?”  
“Of course. There’s always hope. I mean… it’s not always a good idea to have hope. Sometimes it’s the worst. But yeah, until we see a bloodied corpse, there’s hope.”  
This was too much for Lisa, who promptly broke down into tears.  
“Oh. Oh no. I did something wrong, didn’t I?”  
Lisa looked up. She was suddenly afraid that this towering figure, this mysterious person was just as inept as her.   
Elia offered a hand and Lisa took it and there they stood against the world for a moment.  
“We should get moving”  
And there it was. Lisa didn’t know if this near stranger could help. Archimicarus was lost. Aemon was captured. What could one do in such a situation except keep moving? They took the path out of the city, keeping to the shadows and when that did not suffice making their own. People were being inspected arriving in Drake, but the leavers were not so carefully monitored. This was to their advantage, and they preferred not to think of what would happen if they needed to return to Drake.  
As the sun was beginning to redden at the sky’s end and Lisa’s stomach rumbled with emptiness they heard voices. They were angry, urgent voices and cursed frequently.  
“This isn’t good”  
“Damn right it isn’t good. We’re for the chop, at the very least. Or worse, get sent there ourselves.”  
“I’d rather keep my head.”  
“Shows what you know about the Farm. A week there and you’d lop your own head off rather than take more”  
“It’s bad then?”  
“Worse than you could imagine”  
“Those are just stories though… Just… no-one’s actually seen the heart of it, have they?”  
“Well, no but…”  
“There you go – I’ll take my chances with the Farm. Won’t trust my neck to some tall pub tales”  
“Good to know… but we won’t have to worry about that if we find out where they’ve gone, will we?”  
Lisa and Elia were crawling along a hill to get a view of the situation. A large steel box had been tipped over. The door was hanging off its hinges and there was blood within. The footprints of the recently liberated scattered out in every direction, like starlight in cloudless skies.  
Elia readied a blowgun.  
“What are you doing?”  
“I’m going to kill them of course”  
“But… they seem just as scared of the Farm as we are”  
“All the more reason to spare them from it. It’s a kindness.”  
“No.” said Lisa, knocking Elia’s blowgun out of their hand “There must be another way.”  
Elia was surprised. No-one had managed to disarm them in quite some time. What made that possible was they figured Lisa didn’t have the nerve, or the foolishness. It turned out she had a lot of both.  
“Lisa, do that again and I promise you-“  
But it turned out Lisa had already gone, had bundled her hair up in pigtails, and was down the hill talking to the guards.  
“Foolish child”  
The soldiers turned. They saw an innocent in their path, just some child out picking flowers more likely than not.  
“Hello”  
“What do you want?”  
“I’m looking for my uncle.”  
“No-one’s here, kid. Best turn back”  
“But he was supposed to be here. Oh, I wonder where he could be. His name is Aemon. Grey, but still very strong. He must be here”  
“Off you go, this is city business.”  
“What is it?” The other soldier said after some time, betraying his work ethic.  
“But I have to see my uncle!”  
“Just some country lass. Doesn’t know trouble when she’s in it”  
“Oh… I’m in trouble?”  
“I’m afraid so.”  
“Then I’m very sorry” Lisa said, pulling a small pouch from her belt.  
“Won’t do much to help now. Should’ve stayed home” the guard said, drawing a sword.  
“No I mean… I’m sorry” Lisa said and threw the powdered contents of the pouch into the faces of the guards. They immediately fell into fitful sleep. They started murmuring.  
“Sorry, Sorry Sir. So Sorry, sorry sir”  
“I didn’t mean to. It was just my job, I didn’t-“  
Lisa waited a moment for this to die down.  
“Now, my uncle”  
A reply came from the sharper one, in fits and starts.  
“We can’t – find anyone. Really. No-one.”  
“Where would they have gone?”  
“God knows. Most run a mile, but the patrols by the farm are fast. Anyone who gets free gets caught by them.”  
“Where are your keys?”  
“Here”  
“Thank you, sirs”  
Lisa walked away carrying a full set of heavy keys and a coin or two from their pockets. She left some as a courtesy, but she did need some means of getting food and her foraging skills weren’t much to write home about. Even if she had a home.  
“What on earth was that?” Elia said, emerging from the shadows of the hill.   
“Thistles. They give me bad dreams. I thought they might work if I just…”  
“I see. You have… those gifts.” Elia said, suspiciously.  
“Those… gifts?”  
“You’re to be a mage.”  
“Well, I just tried some simple things…”  
“You have affinity. I doubt it’ll just be alchemy and the folk arts for you. Oh, that Aemon has plans for you, I’m sure.”  
Elia frowned.  
“You don’t trust magic.”  
“No, I trust magic. I don’t trust mages and wizards and…”  
“What’s the difference?” Lisa had some knowledge of the outside world, but the finer points escaped her at times.  
“An alchemist merely assembles the elements as they exist. A wizard can use great words of magic… a mage… a mage can bend the world by will alone. It is… not something to be tried.”  
“But… you wear those things… you use magic”  
“Simple enchantments. That’s fine, that’s… balanced. But get true magic into the world and it gets torn.”  
“Torn?”  
Elia gazed at the sky for a moment, as if scanning for a faultline.  
“We should move on. Aemon must lie beyond”


	12. All The Roads And Where They Lead

Aemon was alone. Usually he was a big fan of being alone. This time, on an open road that stretched between a tyranny and its harshest prison, he was less than fond.  
He wasn’t entirely sure what merited such treatment, but there was a chance it had something to do with where he was headed and the people he was due to meet with. Not really the sort who the armies of Drake would appreciate very much.  
He had grown concerned of late. First the Fair Fen across the sea and now Saltcliff… it was nearly a pattern. Not quite. He wasn’t to let himself descend into paranoia. Not yet. Save that for retirement and a corner seat in a pub. But it was troubling. Growing armies, far too large for what was needed in a place that size. Bigger prisons, nastier prisons. You could tell when a city was about to get unpleasant with people. They would always build more prisons in advance.  
The roads were many and extended in all directions. Few signs were to be found. Aemon tried to find his way to the coast, away from Drake. There would be another port from which to gain passage on a ship. He hoped.  
He couldn’t tell how long it had been since he last ate. That was fine. It was his thirst that was the problem. He was old before he set out, and without water he started to feel it. The sweltering box and the long journey with scarcely a break didn’t help either. The country was not especially arid but that day it felt like a desert. Each step wore him down, as sure as the tide against rocks. Sturdy as he was, he would not last long.  
There was some dew left on the grass. He bent, his body cracking and groaning as he did so and caught what he could of the moisture. The effort exhausted him far more than the walk had done. Foolish.   
He wandered for half a day, turning back round and round again until he found the wrecked cart. In his desperation he nearly called out but stopped himself. Even this would be better than what awaited at the farm.  
He caught his breath for a moment and leant against the cart. It was growing hot in the sun. He pulled his hand away and tried to hide in the shade of the entrance. The shadows cooled him slightly but he was never far from its hot metal.  
His thirst became unbearable. Beads of sweat began to drip off his face onto a dry lolling tongue and he cursed. He was tired and dehydrated and out of luck.  
Suddenly, a tapping sound came. Then another. Tiny little sounds on the metal above. Aemon got up and pulled himself up onto the scorching roof. A falcon was skittering on it, trying to   
“Archmicarus?”  
Suddenly the bird turned and launched itself at him. He promptly screamed and fell backwards. A fallen soldier softened the fall with a wet, sticky sound.  
“God’s delicates. Aemon?”  
“Who the hell did you think it was, fool bird?”  
“I thought you were one of them! They’re after me, you know”  
“Is that so, eh?” Aemon said, distinctly unimpressed.  
“Oh yes. You don’t bust someone out of prison without catching their attention”  
“Well, you’ve been busy then. I may have judged too soon” Aemon replied, getting up.  
“Steady old man, you look about ready to keel over”  
Archimicarus attempted to prop up Aemon but wings make ineffectual arms so he fell straight back down again, with another squish.  
“Water”  
Archimicarus flew off, in search of an oasis or lake. He returned and shook his head, before swooping down to the soldier Aemon was lying on. He nudged his head against something. Aemon reached down and realised he’d been a fool.  
A canteen! Aemon opened it and drank his fill. His strength bolstered, he got up and tightly embraced the bird.  
“Aemon! Get ahold of yourself. And not me. Definitely not me. Ever”  
Aemon loosened his grip. The bird flew back up to the roof.  
“Where is Lisa?”  
“I… don’t know. I had to…”  
“She is your damned human, you glorified duckling. I thought- you broke her out.”  
“Nope, was some stranger.”  
“And you discovered this… when?”  
“Er…”  
“Bird…”  
“Immediately”  
“Had a bit of a conscience develop, did you?”  
“You should’ve seen her. Looked as sad and beaten up as anything.”  
“I’m sure Lisa Is little different, now”  
Archimicarus looked away in shame. But then…  
“Wait.”  
“Wait what?”   
Archmicarus flew off.   
“Where are you going? Bird? Archimicarus? Get back here! You’re the worst familiar a witch could have! If the first mages had someone like you around they couldn’t have conjured up a child’s birthday party, let alone-“  
The falcon was out of earshot, so Aemon ceased cursing at him. How he got saddled with this creature, how Lisa got saddled with him for that matter, he could never quite work out. Still, the girl was important in all this. That much he knew, and so was Plinkman. Aemon thanked any god listening he never got promoted much past the early ranks. That honour belonged to Plinkman. He was always a climber, always looking ahead. Aemon just looked for his next meal. As he saw the falcon re-emerge he briefly contemplated what a familiar might taste on a spit.  
Then Aemon saw what Archimicarus brought back with him.  
Coming up over a hill, tired but still standing, was Lisa. She was followed by a stranger, tall and thin and watchful.   
They came over the rolling hills and stopped, exhausted, at the wreck of the cart. Aemon lifted Lisa off the ground and twirled her about until he heard her muffled objections.  
“Lisa! Oh, I thought that useless bird of yours had lost you forever”  
“Oh, no, I thought I’d lost you. Archmicarus helped us. He was brilliant!”  
If Aemon didn’t know any better, he’d have said the bird was blushing. But of course, birds don’t blush. That would be ridiculous.  
They stood and perched there, tired but triumphant.  
The fugitives from the cruel justice of Drake were united at last.


	13. Booking Passage

They could never return to Drake, that much was certain. The biggest place on the coast and it was now lost to them. They couldn’t use any contacts, they had to find anywhere with a ship and hope for the best. There were however more immediate concerns.  
“Who the hell are you?” Aemon yelled.  
“That’s Elia, Elia er-“ Lisa fumbled.  
“They helped Lisa escape” Elia said softly.  
“Yeah, that” Lisa grinned.  
“You’re a thief”  
“I beg your pardon”  
“You’re a thief”  
“Oh, oh yes I am.”  
“Why’d you get all huffy then?”  
“I just didn’t quite hear you the first time. Thought you called me The Teeth”  
“Teeth? Why would you-“ Lisa was cut short  
“The Teeth. Nasty bunch of mercenaries and brigands. No price too small for them. No honour at all. They just like the killing”  
“I hope I never run into them”  
“Better not, I owe them a lot of money”  
“So… Lisa trusts you. I’m a businessman so I don’t have much time for thieves”  
“I’ve never met a businessman who didn’t fraternise with thieves before”  
“What are you on about”  
“It’s how they keep their stock up. Bit of china here, some talismans there. Half my jobs back home were just selling stuff between, ahem, honest businessmen such as yourself.”  
“Pah. Where’s back home then? Some far off land where chaos reigns and bands of brigands slaughter this way and that”  
“Glend.”  
“Glend? You mean…. Like neighbouring town, half a day’s ride away from here? Small, lots of dairy farms?”  
“That’s the one.”  
“Blimey. Never knew that.”  
“I imagine I’ll be hearing that a lot. Look, I have a proposition for you.”  
“Oh, here we go-“  
“May I finish? As you can see, I’m good at getting out of difficult situations. We are all wanted by that delightful city of Drake and their friendly heavily armed guards. We all need passage, you need protection.”  
“I’ve fought in my share of wars, I know how to take care of myself”  
“I’m quite sure. However, should a similar situation happen again you’d clearly be lost without me to help out. So… partners?”  
Elia stretched out a gloved hand.  
“You must be joking”  
“No, I seldom joke. My wit is like my sword. Too dangerous to be unsheathed without cause. Many enemies have died laughing at my repartee.”  
A silence fell.  
“That was a joke”  
“And a formidable one I’m sure, however-“  
“However” Archimicarus landed on Lisa’s shoulder. “We are neglecting the opinion of the member of our little gang who was locked up in a cell. Lisa?”  
“Well… it would be good to have someone who knows how to sneak. We’ll probably have to do some sneaking if we’re to get past everyone who wants to kill us.”  
“Smart girl” Elia said.  
Aemon rolled his eyes , tutted and sighed. It was an impressive and speedy display of weariness.  
“Fine. Welcome to our little… gang.”  
“Such hospitality, such grace. You would make a fine lord. Like that fellow who runs Drake, for instance”  
Aemon bristled at the insult. He had a lot to get used to, and he did not like change. Still, he was a soldier at heart so he shouldered his burdens and they ventured onwards.  
They came to a cliff with a path carved into it, barely enough for single-file passage. Still, they braved it and before too long were at the bottom. The sea spray stung their eyes and the skies above promised rougher weather to come. A primitive little shack stood by the sea, accompanied only by a tiny jetty and a small slip of a ship which tumbled upon the tide and fought against its tethers. Aemon walked up and knocked on the door hesitantly. It opened. An aged figure looked blearily out.  
“Excuse me, we’re sorry to bother you but-“  
“ELIA?” The voice replied.  
“Samson” said Elia. The stranger threw the door open and leapt out. The two ran towards each other and embraced with laughter.  
“It’s been years, good god. Decades, cen-“  
“Yes, well, it’s good to see you too Samson” Elia mumbled, gesturing at the others in their midst.  
“You’ve aged a fair bit better than I have”  
“Wasn’t hard”  
They laughed again, even harder. Samson gestured for them to come in. The place was more hospitable than it looked on the outside. It was warmed by a little fire kept going through a few scattered enchantments. The magic spat out little sparks of green and purple, cutting through the amber glow of the firelight.  
“What brings you here?”  
“This lot. They’re-“  
Lisa burst forward “Yes we’ve come from the hills seeking passage across the sea to chase the red and black pirate ship that took my father!”  
“Well, that was… a lively performance. Have you ever thought of taking up the trumpet? I dare say you’ve got the lung capacity.”  
“Samson…”  
“I know, I shouldn’t joke. Your father, you say? That sounds serious. But you’re wrong.”  
“You don’t believe me?”  
“Oh I do. But that wasn’t a pirate ship that took your father.”  
“It wasn’t?”  
“No.”  
“What was it?”  
“It was a ship of the Sea King.”  
“Who…?” Lisa asked  
Aemon shuddered. “No, no don’t tell me he’s caught up in all this.”  
“Not yet, no” Samson said, pouring out some tea “he’s hearing all sides and is gathering emissaries together in order to make his decision.”  
“So that ship…”  
“Was probably for the gathering, yes”  
“What… Will someone please just tell me what’s going on?” Lisa stammered.  
Elia turned to her. “You haven’t heard of the Sea King?”  
“Until now I’d barely left my village”  
“Ah yes that would explain…” Elia looked her up and down “Some things”  
“You were a lot nicer when you were locked up” Lisa said  
Samson burst into laughter. “I like this child. Where’d you find her?”  
Archimicarus “Oh, just lying around.”  
“The Sea King” Samson said softly “Is an old privateer who made a significant fortune. He then spent it building a kingdom where no power could reach him. They all said he was foolish. Now all the business of the sea has to pass by his kingdom. They don’t call him foolish anymore.  
“The Sea King has my father,” Lisa said “So we need an audience with the Sea King”  
The little shack was silent. Everyone was staring at Lisa who sat there entirely assuming and unaware of the gravity of what she just said.  
“I’m sorry what on earth was that?” Asked Samson  
“well it stands to reason doesn’t it" Lisa said “if that’s wearing as that’s where we need to be"  
“she’s not wrong is she?” Archimicarus said “and besides how tough could the guy be?”  
Elia and Sampson looked each other then laughed. “Come on Samson said, you really expect to be able to take on the sea king?”  
“We don’t need to challenge him" Lisa said “we just need to find something he wants”  
“This girl is starting to scare me" Elia said.  
“Reminds me of you" Samson replied  
“That’s what I’m afraid of”


	14. An Unfamiliar Familiar

It was agreed over the course of a few drinks the plan – take the boat, ask for a meeting. They would take whatever was needed and declare their arms. If they brought trouble they would be sent home in several boxes. None of them needed that, it was a stressful enough time without the prospect of ending up dead and dismembered.   
Lisa was sent to bed, wrapping herself in threadbare blankets. She gathered her things and assembled them into a fort, keeping more of the heat in. The shack was even shabbier than the poorest part of the farmhouse’s roofs. There was a chorus of drips into different sized pans that promised a melody but faltered and hesitated. It was hypnotic until the irregularity of the drops jolted her awake. Then she would glower at their little corner before trying to sleep again.  
The adults argued in hushed whispers deep into the night and then got deep into their cups. Lisa covered her head with her pillow in an attempt to shut them out but ended up with her head against a tough unforgiving mattress. Archimicarus had been circling around the coast for a while, catching a few worms in the muddy land just above where the pebbles began. He must have sensed her discomfort as he flew in, shook himself off over the drunkards who considered themselves their betters and settled over Lisa, stretching out his wings to serve as a blanket. His head rested against her shoulder and within minutes they were both sound asleep.  
The next morning Lisa awoke to the smell of cooking. Fortunately it wasn’t Aemon’s. Samson was making some porridge. It was warming and hot, good for a voyage he said. Lisa gulped it all down eagerly, thankful for some decent food. Archimicarus was perched on the back of a chair, attempting to look noble and ready for adventure but had a nervous look in his eye that he couldn’t hide from Lisa. There was something very odd about having an animal companion who could speak to you, but she could get used to it. In fact, she was starting to. Though they were from different worlds they seemed at least to not have the gulf of years that lay between her and Aemon.   
“What are you staring at?” Archmicarus grumbled.  
Perhaps there was still a gap to bridge.   
After breakfast they all shouldered their burdens in silence. Samson locked up the shack and they headed towards his boat. It was a piecemeal thing, crafted from as many different bits and pieces as the shack. With a shove they set sail. In a few minutes they were further from home than Lisa had ever been before. Even with her mission of finding her father this gave her pause. But there was nothing back at the farm, nothing she could do there except pine away and tend to the plants. She didn’t think she could run the place herself. Her father barely coped and that was with her help.  
Samson and Aemon consulted maps at the front of the ship while Elia rowed at the back. As they did so they kept looking to the shore worriedly. There was a little bump as the tides changed, but it seemed they were in for plain sailing. Aemon said as much. There was nothing to see for miles around but the open sea and blue sky.  
“Hang on a moment…”  
“Archimicarus, what is it?”  
“I think I see something. Wait here”  
“Well I’m not exactly going to go anywhere, am I?”  
Archimicarus ignored this, which showed Lisa he must clearly be troubled if he was willing to avoid an opportunity to argue or quibble. He soared upwards almost out of sight, but then suddenly came tumbling back down. He was hurt, that was clear. Lisa reached out her arms and caught him before he fell into the waters which were starting to churn and grow dark. Above clouds started to gather all of a sudden. They were dark, malevolent clouds, like those she saw that fateful night above the farm.  
“Archimicarus? What hurt you?”  
The others were furiously trying to turn the ship to escape this sudden darkness. Lisa held her familiar tight against her.  
“In those… clouds” he gasped.  
In the middle of them, eyes glowing like embers, was an immense bird with coal black wings stretched out. It did not seem troubled by the storm. On the contrary, it seemed the storm was its doing. As it flew over the ship it took the storm with it, a dark raiment that crackled with lightning.  
“That bird?”  
“That was no mere bird…” Archimicarus said, “That was a familiar.”


	15. Troubled Skies

“Move, Lisa!” Aemon yelled, shoving an oar desperately into the choppy waters as if trying to pierce the heart of the sea. It did little to help the situation. Elia and Samson were attempting to row in any direction, but in their panic they could hardly manage to synchronise their movements. The ship was going in circles.  
The skies were darkening even more and the bird gave out a battle cry and stretched its great wings.   
“This is no ordinary storm” said Elia.  
“You think, Elia, you think?” Samson roared over the crash of the waves.  
Lisa was stuck in the middle, cradling Archimicarus. What could they do? Lisa knew the bird was in poor health, but he was the best shot they had of taking down the bird. His vision was diminishing and… wait. How could she tell? The knowledge faded as she shook her head. Was she connecting with him somehow? She closed her eyes and tried again. She strained and strained and… nothing. She needed it, had to connect with him, but the tumult of the ship crept in the more she tried to fight it. She cried in despair, stopping her efforts for a moment and then saw herself from below. She saw the tears fall with crystal-sharp eyes. Courage, bird. Courage. She breathed and as she did so she felt Archmicarus’ strength return. Fly, bird, fly. He flapped his wings and… no. They flapped their wings and took off towards the blackening sky.  
Lightning coursed downwards, setting the mast ablaze. Lisa almost got jolted out, but kept her concentration. In their sights was the bird, and its red eyes. Their claws rose as did those of their foe. Their eyes met as they desperately searched for a weakness, an opening. Within the animal spirit they could see something else behind. Perhaps their master’s will. It was a far stronger beast than they were. They would not win the fight through strength alone. They withdrew and took a course through the cloud.  
Are you mad? Archimicarus thought.  
Yes, but trust me, Lisa replied.  
They became cloaked and the bird lost them for a moment. They spiralled upwards until they were directly above the beast and then descended, claws out, right at its eyes. They scratched one of them out and heard an almighty scream. It was part human, part bird. The redness of its eyes diminished, the clouds began to part and it flew off into the distance.  
Lisa withdrew from Archimicarus and back to herself. Archimicarus flew down towards her arms and almost crashed into her. They gasped and panted for a moment, unsure how to process what had just occurred. The others were staring at them in silence. They had put out the mast fire and were catching their breath.  
“That…” Elia started.  
“Was…”  
“Amazing!” Samson cried in astonishment.  
They, Samson excepted, didn’t seem quite sure if they were to be terrified or grateful. They seemed to divide the labour between them. Samson was giddy, Aemon startled but impressed and Elia glared darkly at the girl and her bird.  
“Do you know what that was?” Samson continued.  
“I-I really don’t” Lisa said  
“You merged with your familiar! Extraordinary. I haven’t seen anything like that in… well… quite some time”  
“It was foolish” Elia said. Their bony arms were crossed defiantly and their face had grown suddenly pale so they resembled for a moment a pirate flag.  
“Calm yourself, if it wasn’t for Lisa’s quick thinking we’d be at the bottom of the ocean by now. That was smart, really smart.”  
“But I didn’t- do anything”  
“You weren’t trained for this?”  
“Well, no. I’ve had some training with herbs and how to find the right ones but that’s about it”  
Aemon shrugged “well, it’s not my area. You try keeping a town in horseshoes and see if it leaves room for anything else in your head.”  
They scanned the horizon, hoping for some sign of their goal. In the storm they had lost some of their navigation equipment overboard and got turned around by their frantic rowing. For a while they drifted on the tide, hoping for some sign, some kind of landmark, or at least until the stars could come out and show them the way.  
Lisa trailed her hand along the surface of the water, until Samson snatched it away.  
“Don’t” he said  
“Why not?”  
Samson grabbed some chum from a barrel and laid it upon the waters. All of a sudden a shadow moved closer and closer until it broke through the surface. It was all teeth and eyes and swallowed the chum with ease before disappearing under the boat.  
“That. That is why not”  
“What was that?”  
“Tidelurker. Waits for anyone falling overboard, or dangling their arm and then strikes. Nasty things. Lost an arm to ‘em”  
Lisa sceptically looked at Samson’s intact pair of arms.  
“Didn’t say it was my arm. First mate of mine, back when my ship was a little bigger than this”  
“How much bigger?”  
“Oh, about a galleon it was. Commanded a fleet. That was back when-“  
Elia shook their head strenuously. Samson quickly clammed up.  
The sun drifted across the sky and they began to look out for stars. Each of them craned their necks while Archimicarus sat smugly on the bow, calling out constellations he saw. Unfortunately, it seemed the bird names for them weren’t the names the sailors knew them by.  
Before too long Lisa was lying on her back, almost enjoying the back and forth rocking of the ship. The wood was rough, but oddly more comfortable than the bed in the shack. She could fall asleep like this, gazing at the glittering stars. Perhaps, once she had finished whatever training Aemon had in mind, she could become a sailor. She’d look up at those stars and they would help her find the right way to sail. She had helped out a little down the harbour, lifting and moving crates of this and that. It was a good way to spend time with her mother, given how often she was away. Lisa could never do anything like that, no fighting in big wars. She would have a merchant ship and sail all around the world, collecting silks and spices for copper on one side and selling them on the other for gold. She had thought about it before, when reading nestled in whatever nook she’d find in the house, but with the creaking timbers and the powerful salty bite of the air she could feel it as strongly as the heartbeat in her chest.  
She could hear another creaking, getting louder and closer. She sat up and saw in the moonlight a dozen harpoons, all trained at them.


	16. At The Gates

“Identify yourselves”  
Their captors were flanking them on two small ships that nevertheless dwarfed their own rough-hewn vessel.  
Archimicarus played dumb, as suggested by the adults. Some people believed the familiar of another, especially a strong animal, could bestow magical properties if cooked and eaten. So the falcon remained silent, lest he become prey.  
“Well, it looks like we’re here” Samson said, grinning.  
No-one else joined him in merriment. They were all too busy working out whether to impale him and send him to the depths.  
“No” said an especially large gentleman who was not wielding a harpoon. He had instead a blade like a huge cleaver strapped to a long pole. It caught the moonlight and Lisa had to shield her eyes.  
“No? Well, I mean- surely you’ve let bygones be bygones, hm? In all other respects I have been a good and loyal friend.”  
“Aside from the poisoning” the large man grunted.  
“Aside from, well it wasn’t my fault if the pork was a little iffy. You never can tell with pork, I mean…”  
“Samson what did you do?” Elia hissed.  
“You used the black lily”  
“You damned, damned fool” Elia hissed again.  
“Well I’m not exactly a horticulturalist… I thought it was like black garlic or something. Bit of a delicacy. But… I was wrong, I suppose”  
“Tell us why we shouldn’t sink you right here” said a woman with a bandaged head and numerous tattoos.  
The large man turned and leaned down. His height became suddenly apparent when he could, with no significant problems, grab Lisa by the scruff of the neck and pull her onto his ship.  
“Now we can.”  
“Lisa!” Aemon yelled, breaking his silence. While Samson was making poor attempts at diplomacy Aemon had been watching, studying their weaknesses and waiting for an advantage. Unfortunately they were several people with harpoons and one man with a gigantic blade. Also they had a height advantage. So Aemon, until that moment, just watched.  
“Aemon! I- you can’t sink them!”  
“Why not?” Asked a rather skinny man who struggled to hold his harpoon.  
“Because… because they are valuable!”  
At the mention of potential profit the harpoons lowered, just a little. So Lisa continued.  
“We have just come from the City of Drake, where they attempted to foster revolt and… and everyone has a price on their head.”  
“A price?”  
“For treasonous crimes… and… larceny! And… other stuff that will probably come up later.”  
The large man thought for a moment then signalled to the others. Two hooks were thrown from each ship onto the smaller and Lisa’s companions were safely ensnared. The ships raised anchor and began to sail towards a black speck on the horizon. Lisa was taken below decks and clapped in irons. It was there she would wait out the remainder of the voyage, fretting and staring at the deck above. How she wished she knew how to pick locks like Elia or could swing a sword like Aemon in his youth or… whatever Samson could do. Archmicarus could turn up too, that would be good. His usefulness would be limited but Lisa just wanted him close. There was a great bond forming between them, and it would not do for it to be so soon ripped asunder.  
Lisa wept. She held everything together for so long, tricked so many people who were bigger and tougher than she was. She mastered deceit and sneaking and everything she had been told not to do all her life, but the thought of losing her friends brought home to her the reason for her journey, the reason for the trouble they were all in. She had inflicted this upon herself, upon them all. What a foolish girl she was, she thought. Foolish and headstrong. Foolish and headstrong, her father would say, with a twinkle beneath the frowning scarred face she’d never see again.  
A song rose on the wind, only a few scattered vowels at first. It grew and then Lisa heard who it was. Samson was singing an old song the people in her land would often sing. A song of a fearsome giant who razed villages to the ground and ate the young. It was a song of the giant, and the young girl who tamed him. She stood there steadfast and unafraid, and threw no rocks or curses. The giant picked her up and placed her on his shoulder and kept watch over her until the end of his days.  
Samson sang and Lisa wept, but her heart was steadfast and unafraid. She looked up but could see no stars, just wood. But in each plank there were whorls and loops and cracks. She drew patterns in her mind for each one, and gave them all names. In her dotage she would often forget a few details here and there when telling the story of her adventures, and someone would have to bring out a journal from a dusty drawer to correct her. It wasn’t Balan - that was north and not yet built, they would remind her. Those mountains were blue not silver, they’d say. But if you asked her the names of those stars in the wood of the ship, and the constellations they made, she could take out pen and parchment and draw you a map.


	17. City of Nowhere

The three ships, bound by fate and also big ropes, reached the dark spot on the horizon. When Lisa was dragged up on deck she found it was not dark at all. It was a huge edifice of stone the colour of deserts punctuated with platforms of metal and wood on which several guards patrolled. Ballistas and crossbows and cannons were trained at the ships. In a few seconds, they could all be dead.  
“Who are you?”  
“The twin raiders”  
“And what do you bring?”  
“Prisoners of value”  
A guard nodded and two huge gates that didn’t seem like they were there before opened up. The ships slid in three abreast and the gates shut behind them.   
Inside Lisa could scarcely believe what she saw. Canals spreading out in every direction, little boats moving people to and fro, shops that floated on the waves and a whole community as big as her own in the middle of the ocean. It was almost enough to make her forget her troubles.  
The others could not forget as easily. Aemon, Elia and Samson were looking back and forth. There would be a lot of people there who might wish to do them harm. Between the three of them they had wronged many and vengeance casts a long shadow. Elia considered their options for a moment then came to the conclusion that there were none.  
They moved deeper into the compound, and the canals joined a large expanse of water, above which was a stern and imposing looking fort. It was wood and stone and steel, and stood at a great height. The walls were covered with spikes jutting out at various angles.  
Archimicarus silently eyed the guards and their surroundings. He decided to keep quiet for now, didn’t want to attract attention. It was better to seem a pet than a familiar, to seem placid and pliable. He spotted other familiars here and there, sea birds and little fish that swam close to the walkways. A few seagulls were perched on the houses across the water gazing back at him with keen eyes. There was an albatross or two amongst them, crowding them out and sitting smugly amongst the commonplace creatures.  
The prisoners stepped carefully along narrow barnacle covered walkways, just above twisting waters that sprayed and stung. Every so often one of them would falter and feel the tip of a blade against their backs. One overeager guard drew a drop of blood from Samson which fell into the deep. Something stirred below, all fin and teeth. Samson shivered. He had lived a long time, got himself out of many scrapes, but returning to the scene of the crime was possibly a scrape too far. The problem with living such a span, he thought to himself, was that you could never keep track of all those he had wronged. He should make a list, he thought.  
They came to the end of the walkway. Lisa trembled.  
“Are they… are they going to make us walk the plank?”  
“I… don’t know,” Eamon said.  
A guard signalled to someone in the fort and gradually an immense drawbridge lowered. Once it had reached the walkway they were all shoved unceremoniously onto it. The march continued. It was like heading into the maw of a great beast, Lisa thought, as the drawbridge closed behind them with the yawn and creak of wood.  
They were in an entrance hall, but they did not have time to look around. They were sent further, higher and higher on gradual sloping paths. The slit windows told them they were nearly at the top of the fort, which was dizzying in scale. They could barely make out any of the people below. Eamon walked close to Lisa, hand on her shoulder. He murmured kind soft words of reassurance which were half for her benefit, half for his.  
The path stopped abruptly. There were no markings, no windows or doors to be seen. A dead end. They turned around, waiting to see what the guards would say next, hoping this wasn’t just a quiet spot for execution.  
“Look” one said.  
They turned and as they did so a door appeared. Before Lisa could touch it, it opened inwards and revealed luxurious private chambers.  
They all walked in, the guards turned and the door vanished.  
It was definitely magic, but they couldn’t see the source. Lisa walked tentatively forwards, sensing something coming from the far end of the room, something powerful.  
There was a wrought iron door with an obsidian handle. Lisa turned it and the door vanished in a puff of smoke.  
There was a large window and a desk. A woman stood with her back to the desk gazing out at the compound. She had a large tricorn hat and wore a long red cape. On her shoulder was the black bird that had brought the storm. Her familiar.  
“Who are you?” Lisa asked.  
The woman turned and smiled. She took off her hat letting loose a long mane of white hair. She bowed deeply and reset her hat.  
“My dear,” she said, smiling, “you are privileged to be in the presence of the Sea King.”


	18. The War Room

Lisa woke, slowly and groggily, and surveyed her surroundings. The walls were cold stone, crudely formed. There were few decorations, aside from a tattered war banner that swayed in the breeze. The window, unlike many others in the city, had no glass in it and so was open to the elements. Lisa suddenly remembered the howling of the wind the previous night. The farm was so cold-  
No. She was so exhausted she barely remembered where they were, why they travelled so far. She sat up and cleared her head and tried to recall the events of the previous evening. They were sailing to have an audience with a man Samson had described as highly dangerous, at her behest. They were on the trail of the man who took her father, and they had until just a few hours ago been prisoners. Oh, and in addition they were still wanted fugitives in some parts of the world.  
Good, Lisa thought. Great. Nothing like a lifetime on the run to keep you spry and healthy. Come to think of it, Elia did look rather lively as did Samson. Perhaps there would be benefits to a criminal life. But this was idle thought. What was really important is what transpired once they met the Sea King.  
“Sea King? You can’t be.”  
“Whyever not?”  
“I’ve met the Sea King, and…”  
“Yes you certainly have Samson. Black lily indeed. As if that would work.”  
His jaw dropped a little.  
“I… are you still mad about that? That was a lifetime ago.”  
“Indeed it was. We’ve both changed since then, my change being a little more obvious.”  
“It suits you.”  
“Aah good, I was just waiting for your opinion on it. I was sitting here, running a mighty kingdom, just hoping you’d pop in and give your Samson Seal of Approval.”  
“I didn’t mean…”  
“Relax, I was just teasing. Now, I imagine you’re not just popping round. You certainly wouldn’t, not if you were smart. Now I know you’re smart – you’ve avoided me all these years. But you did try to bump me off – which wasn’t wise. So what’s the smart but not wise reason you’re here?”  
“This girl told me to.”  
“I see. And your name is…?”  
“Lisa.”  
“Aah, Plinkman’s kid. I see. Unfortunate. Hm.”  
“You know my father?”  
“Oh yes, there are few who don’t. A formidable man, your father.”  
“No, he’s a farmer”  
The Sea King laughed.  
“Well I’m glad he’s acquired hobbies. But… interested parties have called on him, haven’t they?”  
“A One Eyed Man kidnapped him!”  
“Oh, yes, thought they’d send him. What a character”  
“He burned down the dock! He almost destroyed the village!”  
“He was never known for being subtle. I suppose no-one does get known for that. Set fire to something or you’ll never become immortal. Though there are other ways, I suppose…” The Sea King glanced at Samson and Elia. They shifted nervously on their feet.  
“Excuse me, Sea King, but Lisa and I have travelled a long way and we were hoping to talk to you about this One Eyed Man. Now, Lisa wants her father back and I’d like to know exactly what’s going on…”  
“Ah of course, all in good time. You are my guests here, despite the reception you may have received from my men. When I caught wind of Samson here I feared the worst, but now I can see he’s had a change of heart since that… incident… if he’s taken up the cause of Lisa here.”  
“I have been naught but virtuous since I left the shore.”  
“There wasn’t anything to do since we left shore” Elia murmured.  
“Even so.” Samson replied.  
“I’m afraid the world is changing, child. Powers are shifting.”  
“When are they not?” Archmicarus piped up.  
“Aah, your familiar I presume.”  
“I am indeed Archimicarus, at your service.”  
“Aah yes, Phelonious mention you.”  
“Is that the…”  
“Marvellous creature perched right here, yes. Thank you.” Said the bird, flapping its great dark wings. Archimicarus glared, before its intense red eyes stared him down.  
“That bird… that bird brought the storm.”  
“I have a name, if you don’t mind. And yes, I did happen to herald that little meteorological event, didn’t I? What a splendid thing that was, took so much magic.”  
“I knew that couldn’t have been an ordinary storm” Aemon said.  
“Well, no. It was a spectacular storm. It had me in it.” Phelonious said, fluffing its feathers.  
The Sea King sighed and sat down. She beckoned Lisa over. Lisa came and sat opposite.  
“Look, Lisa, before we were distracted I was going to say… your father is not just a farmer. He was involved in a great number of conflicts. Before you were born he pledged himself to a cause. That cause may have need of him once again.”  
“A cause?”  
A chain of bells started ringing. The Sea King sat up at once.  
“I’m afraid we must go immediately.”  
“What’s that?” Lisa asked. “Danger? A war?”  
“Dinnertime.”   
They ate at the high table of a great hall that sat hundreds. There were meats and fruits and fish from all over, all in abundance.  
“You feed your men well” Elia said.  
“A well-fed soldier is a loyal one.” Replied the Sea King.  
Aemon ate happily, as did Elia and Samson. Lisa however had a million and one questions and was asking them all.  
“Where is my father? Where are we? Is my father safe? Are there sharks in the water?”  
To all these the Sea King replied the same thing: “Patience.”  
They had just finished a dish of fish stew and crusty bread. Servants arrived to take away bowls and replace them with an array of desserts when a bell rang. It was not the light chorus of the dinner bells. It was a low and ominous tolling. The Sea King sat up at once.  
“We have to go. Now.”  
“For dessert?” Lisa asked, but she knew something was up.  
“Follow me. I think you’re about to get your answers.”  
The Sea King walked her through a side door, slamming it in the faces of Aemon, Elia and Samson who stood agog as servants and sailors ran back and forth, dropping plates and picking up spears and swords. More bells echoed throughout the compound, all dark and low. They started being accompanied by a blast of a horn, belligerent and piercing.  
There were no lights in the corridor Lisa was in. The only source of light was a pale flame emerging from the Sea King’s hand.  
“So you’re a…”  
“Yes.”  
“How…”  
“Practice, and a little bit of luck.” The Sea King smiled at her.  
“You’ll get there,” She said.  
There was nothing and then all of a sudden, there was a door. The Sea King made a series of complicated movements and muttered words and it opened without a sound.   
There was a large room dominated by a large table. On the table was a map of the compound and the city and all lands discovered (and a few Lisa did not recognise). There were a few sailors in sashes and tricorns dotted about. Trusted advisers, Lisa assumed. A figure turned and came into the light. There, standing at the other end of the table, his jewelled eye glittering in the moonlight, was the One Eyed Man.


	19. The One Eyed Man

Lisa leapt across the table at the One Eyed Man. Just as she was ready to land a blow she realised something: she was hovering in the air. Was it the Sea King’s magic? Was it the One Eyed Man defending himself? Neither, it turned out. She was being held by nothing more magical than a pair of rough, old hands. They put her down. Lisa looked up and saw the person they belonged to.  
“Lisa!,” her father said, “what are you doing here?”  
“I’ve come to rescue you!” she said.  
He laughed. It was a long and hearty laugh. “Rescue? Me? Oh, my I’m in no need of rescuing.”  
“What? But I saw you being dragged away- by – by – him!”  
“Well that’s his way, that’s just Derrick.”  
“Derrick?!”  
“Yup. Spent a few tours with the man. I was being called up again but I fancied waiting, you know. Wanted to see you grow up first. I suppose it turned out to be quite urgent because… well, here I am.”  
Lisa glared at the One Eyed Man with suspicion and growing anger.  
“But you had a bag on your head, you… I had to find you!”  
“And you did, Lisa. I’m very proud of you. But things aren’t as simple as all that. I told you how your mother and I met, didn’t I?”  
“There was a war, and you both…”  
“Yes, there was a war. It looks like there might be one again. That’s why I was taken away like that. Now I’ll arrange it with the King that you get a boat and people to guide you back home. We can send word to your mother too so she doesn’t fret.”  
“But what’s going on?”  
“Many things, child, a great many things. Don’t worry, I’ll have people to look after you.”  
“But I HAVE people who look after me. There’s Aemon, Elia, Samson… Archimicarus!”  
“Aemon’s an old man. I’d say you were protecting him half the time,” he said with a half smile.   
“Wait…”  
“What?”  
“Where IS Archimicarus?”  
Lisa’s familiar slammed into a window.  
“Let me in! Let me in damn you!” he yelled.  
Lisa’s father, or Plinkmann as he was now known, opened the window. The bird came in, feathers singed.  
“They’re at the gates! They’re coming!”  
“Who’s coming?” Lisa asked.  
Plinkmann stared in astonishment. His daughter’s familiar would be a falcon? This was an omen. For good or ill, he knew not.   
“People! Armies! Great ships! Lots of them!” Archimicarus gasped.  
Another blast of horn sounded. The Sea King drew her sword, said “You’ll have to excuse me a moment”, then walked through a wall as if it wasn’t there at all.  
Plinkmann drew his sword and said “you ready, Ernest?”  
The One Eyed Man nodded and the jewelled socket glittered. He pulled out a staff, the same one he had used to set Lisa’s home aflame. She was horrified. Her father must have noticed for he put his hand on her shoulder and knelt down so he could meet her gaze properly.  
“I am sorry, but I left a great debt unpaid. Now it is due.” Lisa could see the beginnings of a tear before he turned away and marched out of the room. Everyone else, including a few guards who had hidden themselves so expertly away she had not noticed them in the slightest. Of course, with the almost-tearful reunion that was not so hard.  
Lisa ran to follow but instead met solid wall. She heard a crack and felt a sharp pain. She’d broken her nose. It seemed she would not be heading out that way. She was trapped in the war room while a battle went on outside. She hammered upon the wall with her fists until they were sore and scratched.  
“It’s no good! No good!” She cried.  
Archimicarus, perched on a scale model of the tower, thought for a moment. He flew out of the window and circled. He returned.  
“I think I have an idea.”  
“What is it?”  
“If we simply fly out of here…”  
“I can’t do that can I?”  
“Whyever not?”  
“I can’t fly! I wasn’t built for it!”  
“Well that’s not my fault your limbs are terrible!”  
“Wait… if you could get out, maybe you could get to the corridor, see if it’s possible to open from the other side?”  
“I suppose so… yes, that could work! Not bad for a human”  
Archimicarus flew off again, this time flying downward. He saw a window slightly ajar. He pushed his beak into the crack and pushed until it grew wide enough to slip through. The Sea King’s forces were battling an army of unknown colours, greens and golds. He dodged the swords and daggers in the narrow stairs until he reached the top. Nothing. He pushed against the wall, carefully, but felt nothing but cold stone. Then a thought occurred to him. They ended up in a high tower, but they did not go up anywhere. In fact, they were about level with the food hall when they disappeared into the war room. Archimicarus flapped his wings and set off down towards the hall. It was a bloodbath. Men were skewered on blades, a few stood valiantly fighting but it looked like a lost cause. Shame, he thought. But it was not his fight. He looked around until he saw a dark corridor. That was the one. The roar of battle became a distant echo as he swept through darkness. Before he knew it, he came to a solid door of iron. There was a latch. Archimicarus pushed it and the door opened on Lisa. She ran and embraced the bird, taking him by surprise so he came very close to sinking his talons into her throat. Luckily he noticed what was happening just in time and instead submitted to the unexpected affection.  
“You did it! That was great!”  
Archimicarus felt proud, and preened himself.  
“Now, how do we get out of here?”  
Voices echoed down the corridor. They were coming closer. Following them were two shadows, of tall armoured men with long spears.


	20. Nowhere to Hide

Archimicarus panicked, looked left and right and up and down but could find nowhere to go. The voices got louder and closer. The tip of a spear appeared, followed by the dark wood of its handle. There was nowhere to hide, Archimicarus thought. Lisa was calm, though. She stood firm because she realised an important fact. She didn’t have to hide.  
The men appeared before them, bearing the green and gold that showed them to be the enemy. They readied their spears before they saw who stood before them. A young girl.  
“Are you lost?”  
“No”  
“Come with us, we can help you find your family.”  
“You mean… Plinkmann?”  
“She can’t be…” one of them said.  
“I think she is…” replied the other.  
“Get over here! Now!” The guards lunged. Lisa ran backwards, into the war room. They followed her in, but could find no sign of her. Something slammed behind them. A latch fell into place. They pawed helplessly at the stone wall.  
Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. Archimicarus laughed, a proper cackle.  
“You idiot! Never fall for a witch’s tricks!” one of the guards said to the other.  
“I’m not a witch!” Lisa yelled through the door.  
“What was that laugh then?”  
“That wasn’t me! That was my bird!”  
“Oh…. Wait, what?” the guard replied, but Lisa was already running down back to the hall in search of help or a proper hiding place. All of a sudden, Lisa was grabbed and pulled round a corner. She struggled and fought, then saw who it was. Aemon.  
“Lisa! Thank god I found you!”  
“Aemon! I found my father, I-“  
“I know, I’ve seen him too. He’s leading a platoon.”  
“Leading a… I have to find him!”  
“That’s out of the question. It’s too dangerous, you hear me?”  
“What’s more dangerous than what we’ve already faced?”  
“A war.”  
Even with all her determination to find her father and get him home Lisa trembled at this.  
“So it’s started?”  
“No, not yet… it might not, but… things are in place. Tensions are rising, and the old powers are seeking to stop their decline… the new are seeking to show their strength…”  
A great crashing sound came and with it dozens more soldiers in green and gold.   
“This way” Aemon whispered. Lisa followed and came to a small dock with a dinghy moored in it filled with provisions.  
“Are we leaving? Now?”  
“You must. More soldiers will come, and we all need to fight them. We can’t if we’re worried about where you are.”  
“We?”  
“Me, Elia, Samson… your father… I have to say, I didn’t expect it from Samson but he has proven a useful ally, and Elia seems to admire you a great deal. You have found a friend there.”  
“They’re alive? They’re all… where are they?”  
“Out in the fight. In the middle of things. Sail east. Archmicarus can guide you, and if he’s no good there’s a compass on your boat. There should be a seaport, I’ll meet you there in three days.”  
“But… but…”  
“Come on Lisa, there’s a chance for us to get out of here!”  
“No! I want to stay and fight!”  
“This is not your fight!”  
“But it is my family!”  
Aemon sighed. He gave Archimicarus a glance. The falcon nodded. He started cawing and mock-attacking Lisa with his talons, beating his wings at her. As she covered her face, Aemon picked her up and put her in the dinghy. Just before she could protest, Aemon cut the rope and kicked the dinghy out to the sea.  
Lisa wept and cried as they floated away. She tried rowing back but the current was too strong around the island. Something pushed her back. In the greying sky the black familiar of the Sea King circled.  
“How could you?” Lisa screamed, her voice raw with crying.  
“It was for your own good. For our own good! I die if you die, you know.”  
“It’s not my fault is it?”  
“No, but I’m still not going to let you risk your life over something stupid!”  
“My father is NOT stupid!”  
“If he was smart, he’d have gotten in this boat”  
Lisa glared and was silent. They drifted, east at first but then Archimicarus jerked up.  
“South.” He said.  
“What’s south?”  
“I don’t know, but we’re going there.”  
Lisa rowed furiously but could do little good. Something was drawing her closer. Her arms grew tired so she let go of the oars, which started to row themselves. Lisa gasped. They went further south with great speed, arriving later that day at an island that from a distance seemed to glitter and shine. It was a strange land, with plants Lisa had never seen before, and sands of shifting colours. Lisa pushed the dinghy up onto the shore. She pulled out a map and tried to work out where she had ended up. She couldn’t find anywhere in that location, just open ocean.  
Then a voice, coming as if out of nowhere, said “welcome to the wizard wilds.”


End file.
